


Stuck on You

by snipershezz



Series: Kinktober 2018 [15]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Bottom!Yondu, Feels, First Time, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, Light Angst, M/M, Nova!Kraglin, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Ravager romance, Smart!Kraglin, Top!Kraglin, Uniform Kink, Uniforms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 12:16:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16305050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipershezz/pseuds/snipershezz
Summary: Yondu’s been bugging Kraglin for years about joining the Ravagers.  Finally, he caves.





	Stuck on You

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so there’s a lot of fics out there that peg Kraglin as a Nova Officer before he joins the Ravagers, whether he’s a square about it or just terrible at it, each fic is lit and I love all of them. So I’m jumping on the train :) I eventually want to write a big long fic detailing Kraglin’s journey but for now this will hopefully satisfy my thirst for Nova!Kraglin XD
> 
> October 15th - Prompt Fifteen - Uniforms
> 
> #kinktober

Four glasses in of the cheapest, nastiest scotch Kraglin couldn’t afford and he was fairly certain he was tipsy.

He was fucking _done_.

He worked his _ass_ off for fourteen hours a day, six days a week for next to nothing. Every night he went home alone, to his crappy little one-bedroom box apartment and fell into bed, only to start all over again in five hours.

There had to be more to life than this shit.

The smell of leather, whiskey, dirt and _pirate_ wafted up his nose and he sneered, “What’chu want? I really ain’t in tha fuckin’ mood, Udonta.”

“Awww com’on Obfonteri,” The Centaurian said as he slid onto the stool next to him, “what crawled up yer ass an’ died?” He slapped the man companionably on the shoulder, which was immediately shrugged off distastefully. “Ya tell ol’ Yondu all ‘bout it.”

“Life.” The man sighed, hunkering down over his tumbler, “Now – fuck off.”

Yondu chuckled, signalling for a couple of whiskeys. The bartender slid them in front of the older man and he placed one in front of Kraglin.

The taller man sneered, “I dun want –”

Yondu held up his hand, “Look – ya had a shitty day, just – le’me buy ya a drink a’right?”

Kraglin's eyes slid to the Ravager, then back to the drink. The empty tumbler of cheap scotch made a scraping sound on the bar as he pushed it away. He picked up the whiskey and muttered grudgingly, "Thanks." The first sip was an explosion of flavour across his tongue, he almost groaned aloud. He looked at the glass, this was the fucking expensive stuff. "Damn 'at's smooth."

"Not bad eh?" The Centaurian grinned, taking a sip from his own glass. "So," he stated, drumming his hands on the bar, "what's got ya in a funk then?"

"What'chu care?"

"Com'on Kraggles, how long I been annoyin' ya for?"

" _Years_."

He nudged the man, "We gotta be friends by now."

The taller man scoffed, "Yer a Ravager Udonta, I ain't got no business even talkin' ta ya."

"Then why do ya?"

_'Cause yer dangerous an' interestin', an' ma life is boring as hell._ He glanced at the smirking Centaurian. _I might find ya that lil' bit attractive too._

"I didn't at first if ya remember." Kraglin shrugged. "Ya wore me down."

Yondu chuckled, "Not enough ta join ma crew though huh?"

The younger man snorted, "I lived groundside ma whole life. I dun belong on no ship. ‘Sides ya’ll’re criminals.”

The Centaurian raised a brow, giving him a cocky smirk, “Helluva career change amiright?”

Kraglin rolled his eyes, savouring another mouthful of the whiskey, “Why me?”

Shit, all this alcohol was loosening his tongue.

Yondu spun on the stool to face him, “Ya dun belong in tha Nova Corps. Yer a misfit, from a poor family on tha east side. Yer peers hate ya, an’ tha brass dun trust ya. Thing is – yer smart, yer fuckin’ brutal wit’ a night stick – I seen ya, I got no doubt ya got skill wit’ other weapons too.  Ya play fast an’ loose wit’ tha rules, but tha street kids look up ta ya. I c’n offer ya a great job, yer own cabin – which’ll pro’ly be bigger than yer shitty apartment, we work a reasonable shift week wit’ two days off, an’ ya’ll be earnin’ more units – ya’ll be paid more in a month than ya git at Nova in a year.” Yondu eyed him seriously, “All’s ya gotta do is say yes.”

Kraglin downed the rest of the whiskey, “All this time ya been hastlin’ me.” He snorted shaking his head, “I ain’t worth tha trouble.”

“Yer worth more than those fuckers will _ever_ give ya credit for. _I_ think yer worth tha trouble, that’s why I keep turnin’ up. Ya’d make a brilliant Ravager Krags.” Yondu looked down at his hands, then back up at the man through his lashes, “Ya’d make an even better first mate.”

Kraglin blinked, staring at the captain.

Yondu wasn’t _just_ offering him a job.  He was offering him the _highest_ position in his ranks.

He was oddly touched by that.

He swallowed heavily, not quite believing what was about to come out of his mouth, “This job – it – uh – it come wit’ any other perks?”

The Centaurian frowned up at him, “What’chu askin’ me?”

Kraglin looked down, picking at a fingernail.

When he looked back up it was Yondu’s turn to swallow heavily.  The heat in those blue eyes was directed solely at him. He blinked, tongue coming out to lick his lips – Kraglin’s eyes followed it raptly. “It – uh – I – shit.” He chuckled, looking down at his hands. “Yeah. It – it ain’t before but – yeah.” He looked back up. “ _Fuck_ yeah.”

Kraglin slipped off the stool, “Ya wanna git outta here?”

Yondu nodded, giving him a filthy smirk, “Sure.”

Kraglin returned the smirk, grabbing Yondu’s hand and pulling him out the door, he turned left and clattered up the rickety stairs. He’d never been so grateful to live above the bar as he was right now.  Normally, he hated it, it was never quiet, and he had to wear earplugs to bed just to get any sleep.  He’d been robbed four times because of those stupid earplugs.

He fished his keys out of his pocket and slid them in the lock, cursing as the door stuck.  He shouldered it, hearing Yondu chuckle behind him. He tossed the keys on the table and flicked on the light. He turned as the Centaurian kicked the door shut and turned flicking the multitude of locks.

“Git lotta break ins huh?”

Kraglin threw his jacket on the ratty couch and loosened his tie, “Yeah.  Gotta wear earplugs ta sleep ‘cause o’ tha bar downstairs,” he stomped on the wooden floorboards, “after tha fourth time it got old. Ain’t nothin’ quite like wakin’ up in tha mornin’ ta find tha fuck all ya _did_ have is gone.”

“Senior officer cabins ‘re blast proof.” Yondu replied.

“’Nother reason ta join yer crew, eh?”

The Centaurian shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the back of the single chair at the unsteady table, “Just statin’ facts.”

Kraglin chuckled. Yondu stared at him for a second then crossed the tiny room, crowding him against the door frame to his bedroom.  One hand gripped his slim waist, the other came up to hover near his face.

Blue fingers slid through his beard and into his mohawk, “Ya know, first time I saw ya – I dunno – I just – got stuck on you.  I saw all that potential bein’ wasted on a shitty fuckin’ dead end job an’ I thought – that right there – that’s a fuckin’ crime.  Then I met ya – all that sass an’ attitude stuffed inta a skinny spit fuck wit’ pretty blue eyes an’ just – tha _cutest_ goofball smile. Kept tabs on ya, seen how smart ya are, an’ how fuckin’ loyal an’ I thought – that’s tha guy – that’s tha one I want at ma back.”

He swallowed, staring down at the older man, “Sounds like yer pretty sure o’ me.”

“N’er been more sure o’ nothin’ ma whole life.”

Kraglin, craned his neck down, meeting Yondu’s lips halfway. He pushed off the door frame as their tongues tangled, backing them into his bedroom.  He didn’t have to go far, as his legs hit the bed frame it squeaked loudly.  Yondu pulled him forwards slightly and turned them, pulling the taller man down on top of him as they fell onto the lumpy mattress.

The Centaurian pulled at Kraglin’s tie, loosening the half-assed knot all the way and chucking it across the room, “Real shame ya’ll be gittin’ rid o’ this uniform, ya look right sexy in it.”  His fingers found the shirt buttons, undoing them and shoving it off the man’s shoulders.

Kraglin’s fingers went to the captain’s vest, unbuckling the front of it, “Could always keep it.”

Yondu snickered, “I like tha way ya think, Kraggles.” He sat up, wriggling his arms out of the vest, and pulling the scarf from around his neck.

The taller man’s brows creased together, and he rubbed pale fingers along the deep navy scarring, “Them’s –”

Yondu bit the inside of his cheek, looking down, “Yeah.”

“How long?”

“Twenty years, give or take a couple.”

Kraglin cursed then growled, “They dead?”

The Centaurian snorted, strangely touched by the anger in the other man’s voice, “Yeah.”

“Good.”  Kraglin’s fingers found the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up over the man’s head. He tipped Yondu’s chin up, running a hand across the stubbled cheek and kissed him again, crowding him back down into the sheets of his unmade bed. He ran his hands across scarred blue shoulders and down the man’s arms as he slid off the bed to get to his boots.

Kraglin heaved out a frustrated sigh as he saw they were laced tightly all the way to the top, the Centaurian pushed himself up onto his elbows, “If I’da known how this were gon’ go, I wouldn’ta done ‘em up proper.” He scratched behind an ear awkwardly, sitting up and pulling a leg onto the mattress, “Git yer kit off, I’ll git these bastards undone.”

The taller man stood up fluidly and kicked his boots off, he pulled his undershirt over his head and tossed it into the corner.  As he worked on his belt one of Yondu’s boots joined his.

“What’s’at?” The Centaurian asked, nodding to the black leather thong around his neck.

Kraglin fingered the pendant on the end of the braided leather and smiled, “My ma gave it to me. ‘S made outta a shell from her home plant. When I left – she told me she were proud o’ me an’ no matter where I went or what I did ta make sure it made me happy ‘cause at tha end o’ tha day that’s all she wanted fer me.” He sighed, “I ain’t been back since – I ain’t been able ta afford it.”

Yondu nodded once, “Right,” he replied, tossing the other boot off, “’fore we git outta orbit, we’s gon’ take a trip ta see yer family.”

Kraglin froze, “Ya’d – ya’d do that fer me?”

The Centaurian shrugged, “Sure. We ‘in’t gon be back here fer a while.”

Kraglin stared at the man, smirking at him from the bed in nothing but a set of dirty y-fronts and tossed his slacks to the side.  He took two steps, covering Yondu’s body with his own as he came down to mash their mouths together. The Centaurian’s fingers gripped into his protruding shoulder blades and yanked him flush.  Kraglin shuffled them up the bed, until Yondu’s head hit the pillows, hand shooting out to the three crates beside his bed that served as a table, digging around inside the top one.

His fingers curled around the tube of slick and he smirked into the kiss, bringing it back and dropping in beside Yondu’s bicep.  He pulled away from the Centaurian and sat up to yank off his boxers.  Yondu gave a dirty little chuckle and lifted his hips to pull his own underwear down.  He hummed appreciatively eyeing Kraglin up, “ _Daaymn_ , boy! Who knew a skinny fucker like you was packin’ that monster in his trousers.” He spread his thighs invitingly and raised a brow, “I’mma enjoy this.”

Kraglin gaped, “Ya –”

“Like gittin’ fucked?” He snickered.

The taller man shook his head, with a snort, “A’right. Works fer me.”

He picked up the tube, leaning in to kiss the Centaurian again. The older man lifted his legs, to hook his knees over Kraglin’s shoulders, effectively bending himself in half, Kraglin flicked the tube open and coated his fingers, he pulled away from the kiss, “Damn, you’s flexible.”

Yondu shrugged, lips quirking up at the side, “’M fulla surprises, me.”

Kraglin snorted, nosing under the man’s beard and latching onto the scarred neck.  The Ravager made a strange clicking sound in the back of his throat and exhaled shakily as Kraglin’s slick fingers found their prize.  Kraglin couldn’t get enough of Yondu’s neck, sucking and nipping the scars there.  He smelled amazing too, like earth after the rains, the pungent scent of treated rawhide, and something sweet, like sugar but musky at the same time.

Yondu whined in the back of his throat and pushed lightly against the taller man’s shoulder. “’Nough. Need ya now, Krags.”

Kraglin groaned, withdrawing his fingers in an obscene sound.  He slicked himself up, leaning down for a kiss that bordered on violent as he guided himself in.

A series of sounds burst from Yondu’s throat, as his back bowed off the bed, Kraglin swallowed them all with fervour, plundering his mouth that was matched with equal enthusiasm.

The Centaurian’s hands looped around his neck, carding through his hair, griping and loosening, like he couldn’t get enough of it.  Kraglin purred under the attention as his hips hit the backs of Yondu’s thighs at a hard, punishing pace.  He lifted a hand off the bed, threading it between them to slide over the Centaurian’s cock at the same rate.

Yondu gasped something unintelligible into his mouth as he arched up off the bed, splattering his chest in hot ropes of cum.  Kraglin snarled, rhythm stuttering as he was pulled under. His head hit the Centaurian’s chest as he caught his breath.  Yondu’s fingers continued to card through his hair gently, the dull vibrations started up in his chest again, making the Centaurian sigh contentedly.

Eventually, Kraglin pulled himself up, flopping to the side and getting up. He stumbled on shaky legs into his bathroom to grab a towel.  After he’d finished tending to himself he tossed it at Yondu, who caught it mid-air and wiped himself down.  He dropped it off the side of the bed and stuck a hand behind his head, “Ya mind if I sleep here?”

Kraglin snorted, dropping down onto the bed and lying back next to him, “’Course not, ya dumbass.”

“Good. ‘Cause I ain’t sure I c’n walk back ta ma ship wit’out limpin’ an’ ma crew’d ask questions, then I’d hafta kill ‘em, an’ I dun feel like recruitin’ tomorrow.” The taller man laughed and Yondu chuckled, “I wouldn’t really, but ya know, I’d hafta git angry an’ I ain’t feelin’ it, not after a fuck like _that_.”

“Glad I were up ta standard.” Kraglin smirked.

Yondu lifted his other arm, “Git ova ‘ere.” Kraglin scooted over to him, throwing an arm over his stomach and placing his head on a scarred peck. The Centaurian’s hand immediately went into his hair again, and he closed his eyes blissfully. “There’s somement about running ma fingers through yer hair – feels nice – calmin’.”

“Tactile sensation. Helps people wit’ hyperactive disorders. Calms ‘em down.” Kraglin answered sleepily.

The Centaurian snorted, “Hyperactive’s ma default settin’.”

Kraglin shrugged loosely, “Pro’ly why it feels calmin’ ta ya then.” The purr started up deep in his chest again.

“G’night Kraggles.”

“Nigh’.” He replied slowly as he slipped into slumber.

* * *

 

When Kraglin woke up from the best sleep he’d had in years, he stretched and scratched at his wild hair.  He looked about for the Ravager captain, “Yondu?”

There was no answer and Kraglin swung his legs over the bed to pad quietly through his apartment. A quick check of the bathroom and the front room revealed that the Centaurian was no longer in the apartment.

Kraglin felt his heart drop in his chest.

He knew the whole fucking thing was too good to be true.

Fuck it.

He was going back to bed.

He entered his bedroom and noticed something laid carefully out on the end of the bed, which he hadn’t noticed when he got up.  He padded over to it.

It was a leather jumpsuit in the same red as the captain’s coat, a big set of boots sat on the floor under it, a set of gloves beside the suit.  He smiled at the flame patch on the arm, then noticed the note scribbled out in looping scrawl sitting in the centre.

He picked it up;

_Kraggles,_

_You don’t have any decent fucking coffee._

_These are your new digs. Wear them with pride._

_There’s a duffel on your table in the front room, chuck anything you want to bring in there._

_I’ll be back with breakfast and good coffee in ten minutes._

_Welcome to the Ravagers,_

_Yondu xx_

Kraglin folded the note carefully and padded out to place in it the duffel.

After a quick shower, he fixed his hair and set about putting his new clothes on.

He'd just finished lacing the boots up when he heard his key in the front door.

He stood up, stuffing the gloves in his back pocket, and entered the front room.

The door opened and Yondu entered with a flourish, holding a bag that smelled _amazing_ and a tray with two _huge_ cups of coffee.

Yondu grinned and waved the tray gently, " _Decent_ coffee." His eyes swept over Kraglin's form. "You look _good_ , Kraglin."

The taller man smiled, "Thanks." Yondu handed him a cup, he took a sip and frowned, "How tha _hell_ did ya know how I take ma coffee?"

Yondu raised his eyebrows, "How long I been annoyin' ya?"

" _Years_."

"Exactly, I pay attention ya know."

Kraglin smiled into the cup.

"Right," The Centaurian said, "coffee, food, I'll help ya pack, then we're off. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect, Cap'n."


End file.
